Andris Nelsons Debuts with the Boston Symphony
Carnegie Hall Enhances Mahler's Ninth
By: Susan Hall - Mar 18, 2011
Andris Nelsons Conductor
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Carnegie Hall, New York
March 17, 2011
Symphony No. 9, Gustav Mahler
The magnificent Mahler Ninth Symphony was performed by the Boston Symphony in top form at Carnegie Hall. Under the baton of Andris Nelsons, music director of the Birmingham Symphony, the Mahler was an ode of life, not at all the deathwatch which often characterizes the piece.
Questions abound, and the 3,2,1 downward configuration which seldom gets to 1, leaves the listener suspended, eager and also anxious for an outcome. The oft-repeated 3-2 descent was sung by the orchestra and various instrumentalists alone, over and over to devastating effect.
Maestro Nelsons takes several distinctive approaches to the music he performs. In the first movement, his attention to detail, which never impedes the momentum, yielded achingly lovely lines and also dramatic distinctions in tone and dynamic possibility. Mahler’s pitch range from thundering basses and the brass to the upper reaches of the violins, were made arrestingly clear.
Deconstruction is the theme of the second movement. The music proposes and then disposes, often in humorous and cacophonous displays. Oom-pah-pahs, the triples of band music, are lofted and then torn apart. The orchestra looked comfortable sounding good and yes, as the composer intended, sounding just awful. Life and music can be very messy.
The third movement is celebratory, Mahler was making musical fun of others who attacked him for lacking compositional skill. Counterpoint was particularly on display, but in the end, he concludes with a rush of sound that overwhelms. Here the Maestro took legitimate liberties with tempi, which for a moment made you want to pull out your clock watch to see if he would beat Bernstein. The crescendoing race to the end got you to the edge of your seat.
In the hymnal opening of the fourth movement, starting down the phrase which we now associate with “Abide with Me,” but not completing it, Mahler refers to some of his past work and we sense less a final loss than a push at the boundaries of time.
Among the soloists Malcolm Lowe, the Concertmaster stood out, a first among equals in the brass, wind and percussion performances. The Maestro’s full heart was on display throughout. Unlike some of the blown-dry-hair conductors who use physical movement to make a faux display of feeling, Nelsons electric passion is real, translated out by body movement high and low, raised fists, fluttering finger trills, and an enraged grasp of the baton, almost hidden in a clenched hand before he adjusts the stick to continue. Exciting is too tame a word for his style.
At the end of the fourth movement, the sound of silence has never been so clearly made a part of the sound of music. Earlier in the week, discussing silence with the conductor, and describing the special silence of Carnegie Hall in which he had not conducted before, his eyes lit up. “This will be perfect for the Mahler.” He fulfilled his own prophecy. Some members of the audience yearned for more silence at the end because we were rapt in it, suspended for a seeming eternity. Mahler does not end easily.
Dr. Marilyn McCoy, a Mahler scholar from Columbia University, gave an informative talk pre-concert, and her reaction leaving the Hall at the conclusion: “I was blown away.”
In the post performance appreciation of both the Maestro for the orchestra, and theirs for him, you were aware that at the very least this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.